Mid August, and most days I feel like, this year, summer never really got started. Maybe it’s the weather, or the political climate, but something feels off-kilter. My potted veg and herbs are in shock; it’s been either torrential rain or temps in the 90s – sometimes in the same 24 hours – every day since they were planted. Sodden pots sit cheek by jowl with containers so arid they threaten to burst into flame. There won’t be much of a harvest this year.

Through a generous offering by not one, but two friends (thanks Stacey and Danielle!), my wife and I got to see the solo return of Canadian singer-songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Lawrence “But You Can Call Me Larry” Gowan this past week at the Empire Theatre in Belleville to a sold out crowd.

I’ve recently been reunited with my vinyl collection. Over 3000 LPs of CanCon-only vintage that I’ve been collecting since around 1980; prior to that I was your average music lover with anything and everything that fell under the guise of popular music – no matter the country.

It’s Tuesday night, November 17. My renovations are nearing completion, the house is dead quiet as I sit here, stretched out on the couch, looking around at this home we lived in together for 18 years. Remembering all the wonderful celebrations, dinners, Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners, TV watching, companionable “book reading”, and just quietly being, soaking up each other’s presence.

24 hours ago a crowdfunding campaign to bring my old record label, Bullseye, back from the dead ended successfully with over $20,000 in donations from people who passionately believe in not only me and the label but music in general. I’m overwhelmed by the generosity and well wishes. I am truly humbled.

I don’t get out much. Living in suburbia is bad enough; being unable to drive only compounds the isolation. Still, there are times when I brave Toronto’s transit and hit the big city. This is about one such time, just this week.